“Why did she come?” Lupe asked.
“Sophia had Jamie out of wedlock. Cyn Wu doesn’t know the father, apparently nobody does. She’s had a hard time. Cyn Wu thinks she came out here in hopes of obtaining financial support.
“Is Gould the father?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. If she came out here with Jamie, Gould would have met her at the airport, at least known about Jamie. There was no need for her to hide him with a total stranger.”
“She came out here to meet someone else.”
“And got herself abducted by our friends in the castle.”
Lupe Hernandez held up both hands. “Whoa! Not so fast. Walt, is this the library abduction you asked me about?”
“I think so. I drove out to the Karl Kinkaid place. Sitting in the driveway was a limousine and chauffeur as described by Henry Clay.”
“And who is Henry Clay?”
“My homeless informant.” Lupe’s expression was the sort a person makes while sticking a big toe in a tub of hot water. ”I know it’s not much. You’re hardly going for a search warrant and an arrest.”
“You’re right there. What possible connection can there be between Karl Kinkaid, a local jillionaire, and an abandoned tyke?”
Doreen’s voice brightened. “Maybe Kinkaid is Jamie’s father. She came out here to-”
“Try again. I took your advice, darling, and delved into the bible. I ended up with Sid Rankin in D.C.-I don’t think you know him-and came up with an utterly charming speculation. For starters, Sophia Linden may not be the correct name, either. Jamie’s mother is more likely Amanda Sykes.”
“Good heavens, Walter!”
“It’s something checkable, maybe by you, Lupe.”
“If I only knew what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, darling, must you be so mysterious?”
He grinned. “Gotta have some fun. Okay, Sid Rankin says the hot political rumor this season is that Justin Wright fathered a child out of wedlock with one Amanda Sykes. She and the child have both disappeared. Wright’s political opponents, the press and apparently God Himself are looking for her.”
“And the Wright people want to keep him hidden.”
“My exact words to Sid Rankin.”
“Or test for DNA to prove he’s not the father.”
“Wright himself could save that expense.” He looked at Lupe. “What’s bothering you?”
“What was that term you used?”
“Charming speculation. That’s what it is.”
“No mistake there.”
“Except for one thing,” Doreen said. “Who asked the police to find a missing little boy? It just has to be someone who knows Jamie is in Santa Barbara and not very many people do. Cyn Wu wouldn’t tell, and Gould is dead. That leaves whoever hired Gould in the first place.”
“We ought to be able to trace that.”
Doreen shook her head. “We can’t. The erase button on Gould’s PC was punched and the backup disk stolen, remember? We’re dealing with a smart and careful person.”
He paced the kitchen. “Okay, let’s say it was Kinkaid for the moment. He discovered Gould knew Amanda Sykes sometime in the past.”
“College maybe.”
“He hired Gould to contact her and he-”
“Entices her out here on a promise of financial support for Jamie. A meeting is arranged-”
“But at the last moment, Sophia or Amanda, worried about what might happen to Jamie, gets cold feet-”
“Leaves him with the only person she knows in town-”
“Whom no one would think of or be able to trace-”
“Then goes to meet Kinkaid on schedule-”
“And is forced into the limousine-”
“And has been held ever since-”
“And will be until she tells where her son is.”
Lupe laughed. “Is this how you two operate?”
“Sometimes.” Doreen smiled. “We make a pretty good team-”
“For a couple of old folks.”
“Speak for yourself, darling.” She patted his cheek. “This JoAnn-Sophia-Amanda, whoever she really is, just has to be an interesting person. As far as we know, she’s never revealed who Jamie’s father is.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know.”
“Exactly, dear. She doesn’t want him to know and has endured hardship to keep him from knowing.”
“And if it is Wright, she has to know the damage she’d do him and wants no part of it-certainly all the hullabaloo it would bring.”
“She wants a normal life for herself and her son,” Doreen said, “not money, not 15 minutes of fame. Quite a remarkable young woman, I’d say.”
He watched Lupe shaking her head and laughed. “We’d better let you throw your cold water before you freeze. What is it?”
“I keep remembering your term charming speculation. That’s all it is, you know. You have no evidence-”
“Speculation is not a bad word, despite the efforts of critics to make it so. To speculate is to reflect, ponder, think. Without speculation we’d all be living in caves. Doreen and I are simply trying to solve a mystery-why a mother, obviously caring about her son, left him with a nearly total stranger.”
“Walter thought at first the mother might have kidnapped the boy, which is why he approached you.”
He served his SOS at the counter. “Fruit and cottage cheese okay for a salad?”
“Whatever’s easiest,” Doreen said.
“You are now learning, my dear Lupe, the origins of a happy marriage, the words whatever’s easiest.”
All three ate in silence for a moment. He was starved. Doreen broke it, “Lupe, you have no idea who asked the police to locate Jamie?”
“Someone surely knows, but not me.”
“Would Kinkaid have the clout?”
“Not officially, but…” She shrugged.
“It has to be the Wright people,” he said. “If Win-Win Moore knew Jamie was in Santa Barbara or, God forbid, the press, we’d be awash in TV trucks. Could still happen, I suppose. Kinkaid could trot out a tearful ‘mother’ to beg for the return of her darling little boy.”
“No, Walter. Kinkaid or whoever doesn’t have a photo of Jamie-needed for the tearful mother bit-or even much of a description.”
“They must know something about him”
“My guess is they tried to get Harry Gould to reveal where Jamie was. He had no idea, of course.” Doreen grimaced. “Under threats, maybe at gunpoint, hoping to save his life, he told them what he knew about Jamie-blond, blue-eyed, about three.”
“He may have only seen him once.”
“Oh, Walter, it must have been so awful for poor Harry.” Doreen shook her head, sighed, then looked at Lupe. “What are you going to do with all this information?”
“What information?” She smiled. “My job is to look for a missing child. I have no idea where he is and I’m still looking. The death of Harry Gould is not my case. The Santa Barbara Police have no reports of alleged abductions, nor are they interested in rumors of illegitimate children, however illustrious the parentage.”
“Like I said, only a matter of time, Captain Hernandez.”
“Hear, hear” Doreen raised her glass. “There is one thing you can do, Lupe, help us find this woman. She’s in grave danger, and we don’t have much time.”
After Lupe left, DeeDee helped clean up the kitchen, then went upstairs to change into her nightie, robe and slippers. She returned to the living room, accepted a glass of red wine-it helped her sleep and she needed it tonight-then got out her knitting. She had neglected it lately.
She took her place in an easy chair, matching Walter’s, both facing the unlit fireplace. This room was by far the largest in the house and her favorite, perhaps because it had sunlight most of the day. She’d decorated it in a variety of pastels, her favorite colors, giving it an aura of softness, warmth and familiarity.
“I find knitting very soothing,” she said. “Must have something to do with occupying the hands.”
“I’m sure.” His nose was in the newspaper.
“You might try it.”
“Yes, dear.”